


i won't fall down that fucking rabbit hole

by bellawritess



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Coronavirus, Emotional Maturity, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, References to Blink-182, alex gaskarth is in therapy and none of us are going to let you forget it, as usual i encourage you to not think too hard about it, but this happens in nashville, but this is literally how alex gaskarth talks, duh - Freeform, i always feel weird writing characters talking like therapists, i didnt write camden in but technically he still could exist, including him, this is not a sad fic though!!, well not to me anyway, well this is that, what's the word for canon verse but for real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29130930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Heaving a deep sigh, Rian says, "You know on 'Cynical,' that part where Travis keeps fucking up the rhythm and eventually he just yells?" Alex nods. "I feel like mentally I've been doing that yell for an entire year."
Relationships: Rian Dawson/Alex Gaskarth
Comments: 13
Kudos: 17





	i won't fall down that fucking rabbit hole

**Author's Note:**

> in this latest installment of bella writes fic on her phone at 3am, i went to sleep at quarter past one and then woke up at 3 with blame it on my youth STILL stuck in my fucking head and i cant really explain how this came from that but. it did
> 
> sorry if it's uhh rough? i guess?? since it is now 6am and given that i have repeatedly failed to fall back asleep ive decided to just say fuck it and post this
> 
> title from rabbit hole by blink 182
> 
> im not sure if this is a tw but covid is pretty central to this fic (i mean no one has it or anything but yknow they talk about the pandemic and its effect and everything) so if you're looking for escapism then this is not the fic for you

Rian wonders how many snares Travis Barker has broken. Probably lots. In the hundreds, maybe. Blink has been around a long time.

He wonders if Travis Barker has ever broken a snare and had the urge to just beat the shit out of it.

That's how Alex finds Rian.

"Hey," he says, slipping through the basement door. Rian glances up and his tense posture begins to melt away. Even just having Alex in the room makes this whole thing a little more bearable.

"Hey," Rian responds. He gestures weakly. "Broke the snare."

"Mazel tov!" Alex says, but then must immediately realize he's come in with the wrong energy because he backtracks: "You okay, babe?"

"No," Rian says. Alex approaches, holding Rian's cold brew in his outstretched hand. His cheeks are pink, yellow beanie tugged over his head; he must have just gotten back. "Thank you."

"What's up?" Alex asks. He doesn't say that Rian shouldn't drink coffee while sitting at his kit, even though Rian really shouldn't. But whatever. It's already broken. The entire world is already broken. Might as well drink coffee at the drum kit.

Heaving a deep sigh, Rian says, "You know on 'Cynical,' that part where Travis keeps fucking up the rhythm and eventually he just yells?" Alex nods. "I feel like mentally I've been doing that yell for an entire year."

Alex steps gingerly around the drum kit. As Rian takes a drink from his coffee, Alex's hands come to rest on his shoulders, thumbs digging in between his shoulder blades as he gently massages Rian's back. Between the cold brew and Alex, Rian can feel his annoyance dissipating, transforming into something more like sadness. It sucks. He doesn't want to be sad, especially not with Alex here, but it's looking more and more unavoidable.

"I'm so fucking sick of this," he says tiredly, leaning his head back into Alex's chest. Alex's hands slide over his cheeks. They're cold from being outside. "And I don't even feel like I _can_ be sick of this because I'm one of the lucky ones! I have a house and a job and like, yeah, we can't tour, but I'm obviously well-off, so it's not like the pandemic has taken a huge toll on me. Compared to so many people. I mean, it's so shitty of me to complain when you're _right here_ , and I have the luxury of being able to see my boyfriend sometimes. I know that. I know all of that. But." He groans. "But still. I just hate this. I hate being stuck inside like this. I miss everyone so much. I want to tour. I miss playing shows. I haven't seen Zack or Jack since we taped the Basement Noise shows, and I'm a hundred percent sure this is the longest I've ever gone without seeing either of them. Or Jeff, or Dan, or Grieco, or, like — our entire fucking touring crew, and like, I'm just tired of it. I miss my friends." He closes his eyes, breathing in, trying to appreciate Alex's gentle touch on his face. "Yeah. I miss my friends and I miss getting to do my job."

It's quiet in the room, a sound largely foreign to it. Rian feels like shit for feeling like shit, which is worse than just plain old feeling like shit, because he's also grappling with the guilt of trying _not_ to feel like shit, and he's wearing himself down with all the back-and-forth. He kind of just wants to curl up and cry. Alex would probably let him.

After a long moment, lips press against Rian's forehead. "I'm sorry you’re feeling this way," Alex says quietly. "You sound like you needed to get that off your chest."

"Yeah, I did." Rian spins the drum stool, detaching Alex's hands from him as he faces him. There's something almost like pity written across Alex's face, but it's less insulting, more comforting. Rian is pretty sure it’s sympathy. "Sorry."

"No, please," says Alex. "Don't be sorry. You have every right to be frustrated. I miss everyone too. And just because you don't have it the worst, doesn't mean it isn't hard for you. We're social creatures, we're not built to stay locked up like this, especially not for this long."

"I'm trying so hard to be optimistic," Rian says desperately, "and to be grateful, and trust me, I am grateful. Like, I'm so fucking grateful to have you, Alex. I think I honestly would already have gone insane without you. I don't want to be this stuck-up asshole who's crying about how bad they have it when they get to wake up in a big house with their incredible boyfriend and can afford to live well even — like, you know? I don't want to be that guy."

"If you're thinking this much about it," Alex says gently, "then you're already _so_ not that guy, Ri."

Rian sighs. "I know. I just don't want to — I hate this."

Ale hums, bringing his hands once again to Rian's face. His thumbs trace a path down Rian's cheeks like they're smoothing out uneven lines. "You can't control how you feel. And all of your reactions to it are valid. If you _weren't_ a little stir-crazy I would probably be more concerned. You gotta let yourself feel it, though. Beating yourself up about it isn't helping anyone. Nobody wants any of this, and nobody wants you to feel unhappy. And just because your struggle is different than someone else's, doesn't mean you're not struggling."

Rian presses the side of his face into Alex's stomach, Alex's fingers combing delicately through Rian's hair. "Did you learn that in therapy?"

"Yes, actually," Alex says. "Because I was feeling something really similar. And that's what my therapist told me, so now I'm passing it on to you, young Padawan."

"You know I don't know what that means," Rian mumbles, even though with the sheer amount of times he’s been called a “young Padawan” he should probably let Alex explain, just in case it’s been an insult this whole time.

"I know," Alex says. He steps back and crouches down to look Rian in the eye. "I miss the boys too. You know that. And it doesn't make you an asshole for missing people you love."

"But I have you here," Rian says. "Some people don't even have anyone."

"What's your point?" Alex says. "That because other people are lonelier, therefore you aren't allowed to feel lonely at all? Come on, Ri."

"I know, I know," Rian says, looking down at the cold brew in his grasp, of which he's only had one sip. "It's just hard to feel anything negative when I know that I'm like, so fucking privileged to have what I have." He shakes his head. "Even though it's not making me miss anyone less. Or feel any better."

Alex nods. “It's good to be conscientious, but not if it means you're invalidating your own emotions."

"But so many people—"

"Fuck 'em," Alex interrupts, surprising Rian. He lifts his gaze to meet Alex's. "Look, forget about everyone else in the world. It's just you and me right now. How do you feel?"

It doesn't work like that, and Rian knows it doesn't work like that, but Alex looks so determined that Rian has no choice but to concede. "I feel angry that we're a year into this pandemic and it feels like nothing is actually getting fixed,” he says slowly. "I feel frustrated that I've spent so much time at home. Sometimes I feel like I'm going a little crazy. I miss my friends and family. So fucking much. I…" He sighs. "I feel lucky that despite all of that, I have a boyfriend who puts up with my emo bullshit and makes me feel like I'm not the world's biggest asshole."

"All of these feelings can coexist, you know," Alex tells him. "Do you know that?"

Rian thinks about it. Turns it over in his mind. Lets it sink in. As obvious as it seems, he really hadn't considered that he could both appreciate what he has _and_ mourn what he doesn't. "I…guess I never thought about it."

"Frustration and sadness and anger and gratitude aren't all mutually exclusive," Alex says. "And that's how we know you're not That Guy. That Guy wouldn't be thinking of anyone else. But you are. You always are."

"Alright, let's not pretend I'm a saint."

"My point is that you should stop telling yourself not to feel a certain way," Alex says. "It's not going to stop you feeling that way. It's just gonna make you feel worse. And you don't suddenly stop being grateful for what you have when you start missing the people you miss. You're a complex person, capable of experiencing many emotions at once."

"Well," Rian says gruffly, "maybe like, two, maximum."

Alex, from his lower position crouched down, only smiles and presses a kiss to Rian's knee. "Yes. Two emotions. Cold brew and the yell from 'Cynical.'"

Rian laughs despite himself. It forces its way out, but it feels good to do. Alex always brings the best out of him.

"Okay," Rian says. "I feel better. Hey, if the music thing doesn't work out, you may have a career as a therapist."

Alex snorts. "Noted. I'm glad you feel better." He eyes Rian critically. "But if you don't, that's okay too."

"I know," Rian says. He really does. It's not exactly his style to get worked up in front of other people — typically he takes his frustrations out on a drum kit, hence the broken snare — but it's not because he doesn't think he can. And if he's going to entrust his whiny bullshit to anyone, it's going to be Alex, just like Alex would to Rian. "I'm just done wallowing. I don't want to wallow anymore."

"Well, in that case," Alex says, "there are several episodes of _The Queen's Gambit_ that are calling our name."

"Is that the chess one?"

"Yeah, Jack thinks you're really gonna like it."

Rian has to admit that Jack has a pretty good grasp on what Rian will or won't enjoy. "Alright. I'm in."

"Yay," Alex says lightly, a cheesy smile on his face. "We'll deal with the snare later."

Rian glances behind him at the snare and nods decisively. "Yeah. Okay."

After all, it's not like he's going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> so there you have it. projection or just character studies? you be the judge. im on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come say hello. love you x


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